Black vs White
by Sillycritter
Summary: Rick and Jerry have a conversation. Set right after the end of "Auto Erotic Assimilation" (Season 2 Episode 3). Spoilers for that episode.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Takes place after "Auto Erotic Assimilation" (Season 2, Episode 3). Rated K for referenced suicide attempt (canon), and light swearing. Title references pieces in a chess game.

* * *

Jerry Smith had never pegged Rick Sanchez as the kind of man who would attempt suicide. Yet here he was sitting across from a man who, in all regards, should have been dead.. If he hadn't stumbled upon Rick, passed out cold in the garage, barely breathing, and if he hadn't known CPR, he would be telling his wife that her father was dead. To lose her father right after he'd come back He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or punch the man in the face. He wanted to yell but he was completely in shock.

Meanwhile, Rick just sat there, glaring vengefully at him, as if he'd done something wrong in saving him.

"So," Jerry sighed and crossed his arms with disgust. "Do you want to explain yourself? Or should I call Beth and have you explain this to her? Or perhaps maybe you should explain it to your grandson, Morty? Why you'd be selfish as to leave him right after just coming back into his life-"

Rick responded first by burping, then yawning loudly for emphasis on boredom. He proceeded to then drink more than half of a beer without a single word. He really detested this man, and he wanted nothing to do with him. None of them knew who Rick Sanchez was. What he'd done, or what he'd seen. They thought they knew, but none of them did. He was toxic. He shouldn't have come home at all. They would have all been better of without him.

"Why'd you do it, Rick." It was a demand, not a question.

Rick simply rolled his eyes and looked away; there was no point in answering; it wasn't like this guy cared anyway.

"Don't you know how devestated Beth would be if you-"

"Fuck you, Jerry." He didn't look up.

"What?" Jerry's eyes were on him but still he didn't look up.

"You really fucked up, Jerry." Rick's eyes were cold. He really was getting fed up with this whole conversation. He wanted no part in it.

Jerry's eyes widened in disbelief. "...What…?"

"You fucked up again Jerry. Big fucking surprise. That's what you do. You always fuck up."

"What-" Jerry's sexpression darkened quickly into crimson-filled rage. "You selfish sonofabitch!" He lowered his voice to a fierce whisper, so as not to wake the rest of the household. "You almost died! And you have the gall to tell me that I 'fucked up'? Seriously!? What the hell is wrong with you, Rick!?"

Slowly, Rick stood. He didn't have the stomach for more beer. Instead he simply gave Jerry a long and pitying stare before backing swiftly away from the table. "You're a fucking idiot, Jerry," he sneered as he stared down at his son-in-law. "You think you know everything….but you don't know shit."

Jerry stood as well, but simply seethed, glaring dangerously back at Rick.

"You better not tell Beth a single word about this," Rick said low and carefully, "or you'll wish you never saved me to begin with." After a pause he added darkly, "Because that's what you should have done, you stupid selfish prick."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Because I can't just seem to let a one-shot be a one-shot….here's a second chapter, and you know there'll be a third. (Haha.)

* * *

"Because that's what you should have done all along, you stupid selfish prick."

Rick left the table, heading in the direction of his bedroom, when he halted in his tracks: Morty.

Morty was standing there, his mouth hanging open.

He'd been listening; he'd heard the whole thing.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Rick didn't know what to say or what to do, and he hated it. This wasn't any of Morty's business and he shouldn't have been listening in on a conversation he never should have heard to begin with.

And now he knew. He knew that Rick had wanted to end it. Rick stood looking at his grandson, then looked sharply away. He couldn't look his own grandson in the eye. He didn't want to see Morty's tears, tears that were surely streaming down his naive little face. What could he say to make things better? Nothing, so he didn't say a thing.

"R-Rick….?" Morty whimpered, still in shock, begging for an explanation-something, anything.

But Rick wouldn't look at him. "Go to bed, M-Morty," he huffed gruffly, before shoving past Morty on the way to his bedroom.

Morty watched, stunned, as his grandfather stormed past down the hallway. The door slammed, and Morty was left alone. He could hear movements from the kitchen: his father. He'd been heading for the kitchen to get himself a midnight snack. The last thing he'd expected was to stumble upon his father and his grandfather having such a heated conversation.

Now, he was torn. He wanted to know why, and he almost went into the kitchen to ask his father about it, but then his dad would know he'd been evesdropping, and that was the last thing he wanted….that, and for Rick to be angry at him….for Rick to be anything but happy.

Except Rick was anything _but_ happy.

 _Why?_

He remembered the look on Rick's face the day before. When he'd told them, "I'll be in the garage." Was that when….?

Morty felt sick. He wasn't hungry anymore. He left the hallway and stumbled back into bed, trying not to think about all the questions he didn't and probably wouldn't ever have any answers to.

* * *

 _Stupid lousy no-good idiots,_ was all Rick could think as he tried to fall blissfully into an alcohol-induced haze of oblivion. That idiot had probably thought of himself as a hero for saving him. And now, Morty would know he'd tried to take the coward's way out. He'd know what he really was.

He knew coming back here was a mistake. He should never have come back here at all. They thought they knew him, who he was, but they knew nothing.

They would know in the morning.

He'd make sure of that.


End file.
